


Feeling's Mutual

by Cloudy_Serendipity



Series: Muscle Memory [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: Animosity, F/M, Feelings not yet realised, Frenemies, Mild Language, Nerdy Female Character, POV Bucky Barnes, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Resentment, Science, Scientific Testing, Self-Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 07:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19127812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudy_Serendipity/pseuds/Cloudy_Serendipity
Summary: When Bucky Barnes agreed to join The Avengers he didn't know what to expect.  There was kindness and support, more than he could have hoped for, and understanding.  There was also misunderstanding.Dr Veronica Edwards is a hurdle Bucky can't seem to get past.  Why she doesn't like him, he has no clue but it's obvious to him that she really doesn't.When routine testing on the new prosthetic arm puts him in Dr Edwards med-suite he finds himself angry at the lengths his new team will go to in order to keep him on a leash.  After that, Bucky decides that maybe he doesn't like her much either.





	Feeling's Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> This is set between Captain America: Civil War and Avengers: Infinity War but with some aspects of the later story added in.  
> It deals with a slightly sullen version of Bucky, self-loathing and emotional vulnerability feature heavily.
> 
> Writing in male first person is completely new to me but I thought I'd give it a try. I might well be terrible at it.
> 
> This first part of the series is more of a foundation for the rest, highlighting how Bucky and Veronica interact and feel about each other from his point of view.
> 
> I have no beta so read at your own peril.
> 
> Characters and universe belong to Marvel/Disney etc but all the fuck-ups are mine.

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes.”

Dr Veronica Edwards’ smooth voice surprised me.  She was standing in for Dr Harvey while he was off sick with a stomach virus.  I wasn’t expecting to see any of the ladies here this morning, so I hadn’t bothered with anything more vigorous than a quick wash and a cursory brush of my teeth.  You know how you regret not doing something just when it’s too late?  Yeah, this was one of those.

Being dapper had been part of my persona, from back before Hydra, before trigger codes and before the war; a man should always make an effort when ladies are present.  I supposed that was all out the window now my reputation had changed and I wasn’t James Buchannan Barnes, ladies man, any more.  I was Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier.

I winced as the shadow of a memory flickered in my minds eye like a film reel running too fast, showing snippets of the film in between its skips and jumps on the projector;  a murder here, a massacre there, they all flowed together in a tapestry that was as blurry as it was busy.  The reel skipped off completely and I refocused on her face.

 

Dr Edwards smiled warmly, moist-looking nude lips curling upward gently making the peachy complexion of her cheeks seem radiant and her green eyes sparkle with kindness.  I knew that was just her bed-side manner, so to speak, to be kind and considerate to all of the people she assisted, but honestly it made me feel a little uneasy.  In my extensive experience, niceness was either a weakness, a grave miscalculation or a form of manipulation, and I trusted none of it.  But I was trying to change that with the help of Steve and the folks here at Avengers Central.

Striding further into the room, looking thoroughly classy in my black jersey sweatpants and crumpled white t-shirt, I squared my shoulders and tried to push the uneasy feeling aside.  I regretted wearing the two-day-old clothes, but the Doc didn’t seem to care how scruffy I was.

Dr Edwards was always pleasant, courteous and respectful.  She was also confident and empowered, and it made me feel pretty vulnerable.  She knew who she was, and what she wanted.  That kind of strength was rare and it made me feel, uhhh, _inadequate_.

“Shirt off please.”  She held eye contact for a moment longer than was comfortable.  “Take a seat when you’re ready.”  She gestured to the blue, leather-cushioned examination table to her right.

Hopping up, as instructed, I stripped my shirt off to reveal musculature that I was proud of (super-soldier serum aside - I’d worked hard to stay in shape), and the scarred juncture where my flesh ended and the arm began.  I bunched the shirt up at my side and shook out both arms, getting ready for the exam.

 

Dr Edwards, had conducted my monthly exam only three times in the past.  Each time she had neither been impressed nor distracted by my semi-naked glory.  Perhaps that’s part of the reason why she made me uneasy.  In the past, women had always thrown themselves at my feet, without my asking them, they’d been there flirting and giggling and vying for attention.

Not Veronica, she was in her own category, she didn’t even bite at the little flirtatious jibes I sometimes made towards the ladies on the team.  With the exception of Nat, Wanda, and Pepper, all of the female SHIELD agents and Stark Industries staff were either terrified of or swooned after me.  Well, me, Steve and Thor.  It was hard to compete with the two big blonde guys but Nat said I still had it.  Whatever _it_ was.

Shame my sex drive wasn’t the same as it had been before, well, before hydra.

“How are you finding the latest modification?”  Dr Edwards said, holding her hand out casually asking for permission to examine the arm.

I lifted the tech arm, laying the wrist into her palm lightly.  I could feel so much more through the articulated metal casing than I could before, it almost felt like she was really touching my skin.  Her hands were cool, smooth and soft, and her fingers were delicate as she deftly turned the metal hand over in hers until our palms were touching.

“It’s fine.”  I said gruffly, the feel of her skin on the metal was distracting and oddly intimate.

“It’s taking you a while to get used to the enhanced tactile responses I take it?”

I’d worn a leather glove over the metal hand since Shuri had come up with this new upgrade.  It was like sensory overload, overwhelming me with intense feeling that my brain could hardly cope with.

I simply nodded, for want of a better response.  She was so intuitive.  I’d hardly spoken with her but it was like she could see right inside me and pick out the parts that she needed to know.  How could anyone defend against that?  Maybe she had a telepathic power.  Steve would know.  I decided I’d ask him later when we both hit the gym.

“It’s ok to be overwhelmed.  I can turn the sensitivity down for you today if you’d prefer, or you can continue wearing the glove and just ease yourself in slowly?”

In truth, I didn’t really like to be tinkered with.  And I only went along with this monthly exam because Steve had made it mandatory in order to make everyone feel safer, and for my own good, apparently.  That’s what he’d said anyway.  I couldn’t argue with his reasoning really.  I had a past that was impossible to escape and a reputation for murder and brutality that went with it.

“I’ll just do it myself.”  I’d succeeded on my own for so long, so I should be able to overcome a few issues with feeling things.

“No problem.”  Veronica said, plugging a ribbon cable into the port just inside my metal armpit.  “Right then, show me your range of motion.  Start with fingers, then wrist, elbow, and shoulder.  I’m looking for improved flexibility in the rotator cuff from last time when we fixed the pinching at the shoulder.”

I wiggled all the parts she asked me to with no discomfort at all.  The tech felt the smoothest it had ever been, almost like it was a real arm but I would always see it as foreign, never think of it as mine.  It was something I wore, like shoes, necessary and functional.  I knew I’d feel off-balance without it, and fighting would be difficult.

With the arm Bucky Barnes was a fully functioning member of The Avengers.  Without it he was a pity case, or at least that’s how it felt.

“Step up to the testing machine, please Sergeant Barnes.”  She didn’t look up from her tablet, but she stepped confidently to the control panel with the ease of someone who had memorised the space and knew exactly what was where.

I had never seen that machine before.  It looked a little like a wired hydraulic crusher.  Eying it suspiciously, I slid off the exam bench and approached, shirt forgotten on the table.  The diagnostic cable was still plugged in under the arm and although I couldn’t feel the physical connection, I could feel the flow of power as data passed from the arm to the tablet in Dr Edwards’ hands.

“This is new.”  I licked my lips, slightly nervous.

New things made me uneasy.  New things were variables, variables were risks, risks were dangerous.

“It’s a custom-made tensile strength machine, made just for you.”  She smiled brightly as if I should be flattered that they’d come up with a new way to scrutinize me.  “Only instead of testing the strength of the metal your arm is made from, it measures the crushing ability and the strength of your arm in a way we can compare easily with other things for example the tensile strength of structural steel is around five hundred mega pascals.  Human skin is around twenty mega pascals.  Vibranium, well, vibranuim is significantly higher at fifty giga pascals but that doesn’t reflect the force you can apply with your arm, if you know what I mean.”

I didn’t.  Not really, but I wasn’t about to ask her to elaborate.  She was smarter than most of the techs working at Stark Industries, I’d heard the iron-skin-suit call her brilliant but until now I’d never seen her as anything more than a junior tech.

“You made it?”  I asked with a frown.

“Helped design it yes.”  She held my gaze almost as if she sensed my disapproval.

Trust a woman to come up with new ways to test and torture me.  As if I hadn’t had enough of that my whole super-soldier life.

“What do I have to do?”

Veronica ran through the protocols and procedures, and I got the feeling she dumbed it down a little when she described it as ‘weight training for your enhanced limb’.

Slotting the arm into the device, I patiently waited for her to check and double-check the alignment and safety measures.  The commands of pull and squeeze seemed simple enough to follow.

“Are you ready to start the test, Sergeant Barnes?”

I nodded with another frown.  She was going to start thinking I hated her, and probably start calling me ‘him’ instead of just my military title.  It wasn’t lost on me that Veronica was one of very few people who never called me by my preferred name ‘Bucky’, she was always so formal.

“Ok, and pull for me.”

I compressed the arm in a bicep curl, feeling the machine’s tension counteracting my efforts.  It was like pulling an oar through water to begin with.

“And again.”  She commanded.  “Keep repeating until you meet maximum resistance.”

“How will I know when that is?”  I curled again, feeling the weight against the arm increase.

“You and the machine will reach an impasse.  You won’t be able to pull any more.”

I mumbled a nondescript acknowledgement and continued to work the arm.  At first it was easy, I curled quickly but after a few minutes I found it much tougher.  The machine ramped up the difficulty quickly after my initial efforts and then I was grunting, sweating, and straining against the mechanism.

“Good.  Good!”  She praised and I felt a little hotter in the face with either a blush or sweat, it was hard to tell right then.  “Keep going, you’re doing great.”

After a few more curls the machine locked up and I couldn’t move it any further.  I strained and yanked at it, grinding the mechanism until the arm was locked up too.  I glanced at Veronica, panting and flustered from my exertion.  She disengaged the machine and, with a hiss, the hydraulics powered down.  She took notes quickly before setting up the next task.

With the arm still fixed in the device, I couldn’t move anywhere.  It was like that time that Steve caught me in some factory machinery and forced me to remember who I was.  I was eternally grateful to him for never giving up on me but the feeling of helplessness wasn’t something I enjoyed a replay of.

Sweating, and with regret, I wished I could reach my shirt to blot my face.  I hadn’t realised the exam was going to be so physical, and goddamn if I hadn’t been clenching just about every muscle in my whole body whilst fighting against the damn thing.  Even my crack felt sweaty.

“Is there anything I can get you before we start the next stage?”  Her voice was soft with concern.  It was unnerving how well she read me.  “Do you need to rest?”

“I’m good.”  I said, pride making a fool of me.

“Ok, well let me dry you off a bit.  The port is still connected and should be kept dry when open.”

I blushed hard at that.  She was telling me that I was too sweaty.  _Gross._   I frowned, embarrassed, and shied away from her touch when she brought a wad of paper towels to my brow.  It had been the very thing I had wanted but not from her.

Her hands were still quite cool but she felt even colder against my heated skin.  Too close, she leant over me to smooth the moisture from my body.  Swiping the tissues over my face, neck, shoulders and chest, Dr Edwards watched me curiously.  She had to know she was tormenting me.  How could she not notice my flared nostrils and ragged breathing?  This kind of physical contact wasn’t something I felt comfortable with.

Tense and scowling, I held my breath, tolerating the contact as much as I could.  She continued with her ministrations until she was satisfied with the dryness of my skin.  It had been too personal in contrast to the formality of her pervious interactions with me.  Never more than polite yet professional conversation, zero contact outside of the examination room or combat training, limited off-duty interaction.  It made me feel confused and uneasy.  There was something about her that put me on edge, made me listless.

“The second part of the test is to gage the pressure you can generate with your hand.”  She said, creating space between us that I welcomed. “I’ll do come calibrations after that if needed and we can have a chat about your needs.”

“My needs?”

My heart thudded once, twice, three times before I got it under control.  Why did I have to talk about myself with her?  Dr Harvey was unassuming and easy to ignore.  I didn’t mind talking to him because… _Why?_   Because I didn’t feel…  _Feel what?_   Because he wasn’t… _Wasn’t what?_   Because she made me feel…  _Oh for Christ sakes, WHAT?_

She made me feel threatened, made me feel nervous.  Veronica made me feel like she didn’t really like me all that much.  The coldness she gave me when she was friendly with everyone else, first names, laughing, joking, and the ease of casual contact.

“Come again?”  I sought clarification.

_Oh, Buck, why did you have to make it sound like that.  Like what? Like **that**?_

The way she eyed me then, I didn’t know if it was hatred or something more predatory.

“I don’t follow.”

“Some people prefer to have prostheses that do what they tell them.  Unless you have a penchant for crushing instead of caressing.”

I’m sure my mouth was flapping in the non-existent breeze.  Agape and floundering, I had nothing to say.  Stuck in the idea that flirting and bitterness were one and the same thing to her, or maybe it was too subtle a difference for me to separate the two, I blushed crimson.  Then it struck me that maybe she was goading me about my past.  It was no secret that The Winter Soldier had crushed more than a few windpipes in his time.

“Fine.”  I said, swallowing dryly.  “I’m ready to carry on.”

“Very well.”  And just like that, her stone-faced stoicism was back, with polite professionalism draped over the top.  “Please let your hand relax and fall open.  Good.”

A device with five finger shaped recesses arranged around a silvery ball lowered and rested in the palm the metal hand.  I could feel the metal on metal contact creating a strange thrumming vibration through the arm.  It felt like when I had handled Steve’s shield; a tell-tale sign that vibranium had been used to make this device.

“I’m going to ask you to hold an object, and I would like you to use your muscle memory to create the pressure with your prosthesis.  The machine will respond, mimic the item and measure the results.  It sounds harder than it is.  Ready?”

I nodded, just wanting to get this over and done with.  The sooner this was over, the sooner we could have our ‘chat’ about my _needs_ , and the sooner I could hit the gym with Steve.  The punching bag was definitely going to get ruined today.

“An apple.”

The device in the not-my hand seemed to have the same resistance against my grip as would a firm green apple.  I held it, turning it in the not-my fingers.

“Good.  See, you got it.”

Dr Edwards’s praise was both frustrating and pleasant.  I didn’t like the feeling of wanting to please her, but at the same time it was nice to hear her soften towards me, even slightly.

“An egg.”

The machine adjusted slightly and I could feel the fragility of it against the prosthetic fingers.

“A feather.”

I pinched my thumb and forefinger, holding the imaginary feather in between.

“The hand of a loved one.”

Well, shit, if that didn’t throw me for six.  The way the machine moved around my hand gave me chills.  It slid between my fingers, and almost felt real for a second before I managed to distinguish the materials from real skin.  I hardly touched skin with the prosthetic anymore, except my own.

“A mouse.”

The machine wriggled against my palm.  I held it loosely in the cage of my fingers, just firm enough that it couldn’t escape.

“Excellent.”

The test carried on like that for several more minutes before Dr Edwards removed the mimicking device and switched to something that looked like a hand dynamometer.

“Ok Sergeant, I’m going to ask you to squeeze as hard as you can.  This will create a maximum pressure output for me to work with.  What I’m going to do afterwards is set some values into the prosthesis’ programming that will allow you to quickly achieve an exact pressure to accomplish a task.”

“Like what?  Break a bone?”  I scoffed, and before I even looked at her face I knew that was exactly what she had meant.

“Not just that.  But also how not to break a bone.”  She had the sense to look a little abashed.

Dr Edwards had read my file, of course she had, they all had.  She knew when she agreed to run these tests that she were going to be programming instant kills into me or programming me to stop just short.  My money was on the latter.

“And you couldn’t just tell me that this was what it was all about?  Nerfing me so I don’t lash out and kill someone.”  Irritation seethed up my spine and settled as heat in my face.  “I get it, I really do.  But I’m a person, not a tool.  Would it kill ya to include me in decisions about, well, _me_?”

“James…”

“Don’t.”  I shut her down.  “Get the test finished.  I’m done after that.”

When she said my name, my heart almost stopped.  Gone was her formal, guarded façade.  In its place was concern and a look of such sadness that I just didn’t know what to do with myself.  How do you deal with a switch like that?  And fuck me if I wasn’t simultaneously happy as a school boy on the first day of the summer holidays and irritated enough to rip that damn machine apart and storm out of the med wing.  Steve was gonna get a tongue lashing from me before the day was done.

Her face was pale and remorseful as she started the machine off on its cycle.  I squeezed that damn thing as if I was squeezing the life out of the sonofabitch who turned me into a killing machine, squeezed like I was crushing all of the hatred I felt for myself, squeezed like my life depended on it.  Who knew, maybe one day it would.

 

Dr Edwards sent the data to my prosthesis and closed me up.  She was silent but continued to search my face for something, hope maybe, I dunno.  She wasn’t going to find anything.  I was about ready to shut down and stay the fuck away from everyone and everything until I got a chance to have things out with Steve.

I got up to leave, scooping my crumpled white tee off the exam table as I went.

“Good day, Sergeant.”

I closed my eyes as her coldness returned.  Stood in the doorway shirtless and feeling used, I paused, not looking back.

“Dr Edwards.”  I nodded curtly, showing my face in profile only, before striding off in search of something to beat on.  She didn’t need to receive my frustration, she wasn’t the only person, or even the main person, to oversee everything ‘Bucky’.  Rogers and Stark, each had equal hands in this.

 

“We didn’t think about it that way, Buck, I’m sorry.”  Steve said.

He held the Everlast bag still for me as I slogged into it.

“That’s the thing about being a weapon most of your life.”  I said smacking the bag hard enough to make the stuffing start to crumble out of the seams.  “Everyone sees you as inhuman, even yourself.”

“That’s not how I see you, man.  You’re my best friend.  I want what’s best for you.”

“And what’s best for me, Steve?  Programming?  A kill-switch?  Cyanide implant?  You’re acting just like HYDRA.”

“Whoa!  No-one said kill switch or cyanide.”

I pummelled the bag until the seam split completely and the broken filling plumed out onto the floor.  Stepping back, I saw Steve was genuinely upset.

“Sorry punk.  I didn’t really mean that.”  I held my hand out.  “I’m just pissed off.”

He tagged me and smiled dryly.  All was forgiven.

“I’ll get them to lay off on the hardcore controls.  To be honest I didn’t even see that mandate in the requisition forms so I’ll look at that again.  Just please tell me you didn’t terrorise Vee.  She’s one of the best we have and she’s cool.”

“Dr Edwards?”

“Yeah Veronica.  You didn’t scare her, did you?”

“Nah, I was angry but not that angry.”  Had I scared her though?  “I doubt she’d take much notice of anything I said anyway, she doesn’t like me…”

“Whatever, dude.”  He said dismissively.

“…And she’s not the sort to rely on the opinions of others to fashion her idea of her own self-worth.”

“Wow.”  Steve half laughed, blinking his shock away.  “You know her well.”

“We hardly speak.  She’s always so formal.  With you it’s Steve this and Steve that, or Cap, yeah she calls you Cap.  And you’re like ‘oh Vee you have to see this movie’ or ‘Vee can you come explain this report to me’.”  I nattered like a bitchy college girl slating her BFF.  “With me it’s Sergeant Barnes, or just Sergeant.”

Steve laughed.  “Are you jealous, Buck?  Have you found a woman who you can’t charm?”

“Haven’t tried.  You know when you can tell that someone hates your guts?  Besides, my charming days are over.”  I waggled the metal arm.

“Some people are gonna find that hot.”  A sultry voice interrupted.  “Can you make it _vibrate_?”

Natasha flashed a flirtatiously shocked ‘oooh sir!’ face which had me busting out laughing and Steve groaning.

“Don’t worry Barnes.  You’ve still got it.”  She licked her finger and touched her chest, making a ‘tsssss’ sound before she mouthed the word ‘hot’ and sauntered away to the locker room.

“She really knows how to play on my insecurities.”  I said deadpan, making Steve crack up.

By the time we both stopped laughing, I actually felt better.  The kind of camaraderie we shared was one of the things that kept me going, through all of this.  Nat was one of my closest friends and even though she loved to mess with me she also knew when not to push.  That stunt she had pulled, maybe an hour earlier, might not have gone down so well.  Her timing was impeccable, unlike mine.

 

After cleaning up and winding down I met Steve back in the kitchen where he was making a protein smoothie.

“Want one?”

I nodded, sitting at the counter.  I wasn’t gonna turn down a free smoothie.  Life was full of little gifts, like food you didn’t have to make yourself and, apparently, people who wouldn’t drop a damn topic.

“Seriously though, you need to get over this thing where you automatically assume people don’t like you, man.  Maybe try to open up a little.  Have a little fun.”

“Yeah, ok, Marilyn Hickey.  Sure, a little bit of good old Christian fun sounds like just the ticket.”  I slapped my thigh and winked.

“Fuck off, Buck!”  He blitzed the smoothie maker, trying to drown out my retort, no doubt.

“Ooooh!  You kiss your mother with that mouth?”  I said, chuckling.  “I miss Nick, where is he when you need him, huh?”

“Stop deflecting.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about, buddy.”

“Not what, who.”  He slid the smoothie-filled glass over to me.  “Talk to her.”

“Drop it, Steve.  I don’t care if she doesn’t like me.  I’m getting along just fine without an extra person up in my business.”

I downed the thick pinkish goop in the glass, it didn’t taste half bad but it wasn’t a steak.

“And to be honest, all this extra stuff with the arm and the testing just makes it easier for me not to like her right back.”

The noise of a door closing loudly made me jump.  Steve was out of his seat and rushing out of the kitchen only to return a few minutes later with a grim look on his face.

“You’re an asshat.”  He said picking up his glass and walking away.

It didn’t take much to put two and two together and figure out that Dr Edwards had overheard me talking about her, but did it really make a difference?  So what if we both didn’t like each other.

_It is what it is._


End file.
